


Fighting

by yeaka



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-14
Updated: 2019-05-14
Packaged: 2020-03-05 06:35:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18823099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: TV stressed Lindir out.





	Fighting

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Hobbit, The Lord of the Rings, or any of their contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

The campus itself is never empty, even late in the evening on a weekend, but Elrond’s office often is. Under other circumstances, he appreciates the quiet: a slow, thoughtful day is his ideal. There was a time when he’d look forward to his assistants taking time off, leaving him to the comforting silence of the ancient literature department. But that was before hiring his latest assistant, and now the place feels woefully barren whenever Lindir’s gone. 

Lindir is an incredibly helpful person to have around. He’s young but eager, soft-spoken but intelligent, and he’s as diligently organized as Elrond prefers. Elrond can still function without him and does so, steadily marking papers at the large oak desk set just before the enormous windows that look out over the campus’ most flowery courtyard. The action just feels heavier and more hollow than usual. Lindir works all week and very much deserves his one day off, but Elrond can’t help pondering adjusting his schedule.

A knock on the door startles Elrond out of his reverie, but he’s given no chance to get up and go answer it. The door slowly creeps open, and Lindir himself peaks around the corner, offering Elrond a bashful smile. He’s under no obligation to knock and even has a key, but he’s polite to the last, and he always announces himself. Elrond smiles back and greets, “Lindir. What a pleasant surprise.”

Lindir’s smile lingers, but as he shuts the door and heads closer, Elrond realizes how shaky it is. Lindir’s posture is a little more rigid than usual, his casual clothes oddly wrinkled, and his hands fidget nervously before him. He makes it all the way to Elrond’s desk without a word, only opening and closing his mouth a few times without actually uttering any sound.

Then he sweeps around the desk and reaches Elrond, where he opens his arms and abruptly ducks down for a tight, emphatic hug.

Elrond pauses. When no explanation is given, his hands rise to Lindir’s back, returning the embrace. Lindir’s grip intensifies. Elrond’s relieved to hear no sobs and feel no tears, though he still worries aloud, “What has happened?”

“Oh, it’s fine...” Lindir murmurs, in that wistful sort of way of his, where Elrond knows he’s minimizing his troubles. “I just... well, it’s silly...”

“So silly that you left your house, caught the bus, came all the way over here, just for a hug?”

Lindir buries his face in Elrond’s shoulder and admits, his voice slightly muffled, “It’s my own fault. I watched that show Meludir’s always raving about, and I got caught up in the characters so I _kept_ watching it, even though... oh, it was _so_ violent! And depressing! And I kept thinking if I hung on a little longer, there’d be some relief, but then...”

He finally detangles himself from Elrond’s arms, straightening up to sheepishly admit, “I’m sorry. I just... I really needed something peaceful and happy.”

Elrond takes his hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. They’re nothing if not that. Lindir dons a wavering smile. Elrond can’t help musing, “You don’t seem like the type to enjoy gory programming. Perhaps you should cut your losses now.”

“I’m not; I _hate_ those parts,” Lindir whines. “But the writing’s so good sometimes, and the budget is breathtaking! They have the best costumes and locations; the world building is excellent... it’s just... it sort of leaves me physically _upset_ afterwards...” His cheeks are staining pink, but Elrond doesn’t see anything to be embarrassed about. Media can certainly have a profound affect on the psyche, and his sweet Lindir shouldn’t be tainted by such darkness. With a little sigh, Lindir finishes, “There’s only a little bit left, at least... but never again! The next time I see something like that, I don’t care how popular or highly rated it is; I’m going to change the channel.”

“That’s probably for the best.” Elrond’s hand migrates from Lindir’s palm up his wrist and forearm, lightly stroking him. It seems to have a calming effect; Lindir’s tension visibly relaxes. 

Lindir looks at him with the same deep, empathetic adoration that Elrond first fell in love with. After a moment of mutual looks and little touches, Lindir asks, “May I hug you for the rest of the day?”

Elrond knows that Lindir is exaggerating, but it would be perfectly alright even if he wasn’t. Elrond answers, “Of course.”

With a little tug, he draws Lindir into his lap, where Lindir curls around him in another warm hug. Elrond works around him and pays no more attention to nasty shows, simply basking in the beautiful world that the two of them are privileged to live in.


End file.
